The first time I attended a CIArb event, I almost turned around and left.
Not because I did not belong there — but because it felt like everybody already knew each other.
Groups of senior practitioners stood comfortably in conversation. Arbitrators exchanged stories. Advocates moved from one discussion to another with confidence and familiarity. The room carried an energy that felt both inspiring and intimidating at the same time.
And there I was — quietly observing from the edge of the room, holding onto my conference badge like it somehow made me less invisible.
At the time, I was still trying to figure out where I fit within the legal profession. I knew I enjoyed litigation. I knew I was curious about arbitration and dispute resolution. But curiosity and confidence are two very different things.
The truth is, entering professional spaces as a young practitioner can feel overwhelming. Especially in fields like arbitration, where experience, networks, and visibility often seem to shape the conversation. There is an unspoken pressure to appear knowledgeable, composed, and connected — even when internally you are simply trying to keep up.
I remember watching practitioners discuss construction disputes, energy arbitration, and international commercial matters with such ease. Their conversations carried years of exposure, practice, and confidence. Mine, at the time, consisted mostly of questions.
Yet somewhere between the introductions, panel discussions, and networking conversations, something shifted for me.
I realized that every practitioner I admired had once entered a room for the very first time too.
Nobody begins their career already established. Nobody starts with years of experience, confidence, or recognition. Every accomplished advocate, arbitrator, or mediator was once the youngest person in the room, quietly trying to understand the profession and find their place within it.
That realization changed how I approached networking.
I stopped seeing networking as a performance and began seeing it as participation.
Instead of trying to appear impressive, I allowed myself to become genuinely curious. I asked questions. I introduced myself to people whose work I admired. I listened more attentively during conversations. Slowly, unfamiliar rooms began feeling less intimidating and more like spaces for growth.
One conversation led to another.
One introduction opened another opportunity.
One event eventually became several more.
As I continued attending ADR forums and conferences — sometimes as a participant, sometimes as a volunteer — I began discovering how expansive the field truly is. Arbitration was no longer just a concept discussed in classrooms or legal texts. It became something living and evolving, shaped by people deeply passionate about resolving disputes thoughtfully and effectively.
What stood out to me most was the diversity within ADR itself.
There were practitioners focused on construction disputes, international trade, technology, infrastructure, energy, governance, and policy. Some came from purely legal backgrounds, while others brought expertise from engineering, architecture, finance, and business. ADR was not confined to one path or one type of professional. It was multidisciplinary, dynamic, and constantly evolving.
That realization made the field feel even more exciting.
It also reminded me that young practitioners do not need to have everything figured out immediately. Early professional growth is often less about certainty and more about exposure — exposing yourself to conversations, opportunities, ideas, and environments that challenge you to grow.
The legal profession can sometimes make young people feel as though they must arrive fully formed. But growth rarely happens that way. Confidence is developed gradually through participation, consistency, mentorship, and experience.
Sometimes growth begins with something as simple as introducing yourself.
Looking back now, I realize that some of the most valuable lessons I have learned so far have not necessarily come from textbooks or lecture halls. They have come from observing professionals interact, from listening during panel sessions, from volunteering at conferences, and from stepping into spaces that initially intimidated me.
ADR continues to interest me because at its core, it is deeply human. Beyond procedure and legal frameworks, dispute resolution is ultimately about communication, trust, relationships, and understanding perspectives. It requires not only technical legal knowledge, but also patience, emotional intelligence, adaptability, and integrity.
As Africa’s ADR landscape continues growing, I believe young practitioners have an important role to play within it. We are entering the profession during a period of transformation — where conversations around technology, accessibility, cross-border disputes, and modernization are reshaping dispute resolution across the continent.
But before young practitioners can contribute meaningfully to these conversations, many of us must first overcome something much simpler: the fear of entering the room in the first place.
And perhaps that is why this lesson continues to stay with me.
Because sometimes, opportunities do not begin with expertise.
Sometimes, they begin with courage.
The courage to attend the event.
The courage to ask the question.
The courage to introduce yourself.
And the courage to believe that one day, you too will belong in the conversations you once felt afraid to join.